


Ghost

by Modlisznik



Series: Ghost [1]
Category: The Technomancer (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Violence, M/M, Zach is an angry boi, he got that from his father, it's Zach/Andrew but not about them so I'm not tagging it, it's the Judge's son mission and everything goes wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 11:24:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14307630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Modlisznik/pseuds/Modlisznik
Summary: First, there is a mace, a powerful swing that throws him on the wall and squeezes the air out of his lungs. Second, the taste of blood in his mouth. Third, Zach sees a ghost.





	Ghost

_Underneath my skin there is a violence_  
  
_It's got a gun in its hand_

 

   
  
   
  
First, there is a mace, a powerful swing that throws him on the wall and squeezes the air out of his lungs. Second, the taste of blood in his mouth. Third, Zach sees a ghost.  
  
\- Watch out.  
  
He rolls over, barely avoiding the mace, his dizzy mind still seeing two version of it where should be one. Zach shakes his head, blinks intensely. There's something in his eye.  
  
\- Stand up.  
  
One more roll and there's enough of a distance between the ASC operative and him so he can risk getting up, the staff helping him keep some balance. Zach shakes his head one more time. Finally, his vision stabilises.  
  
But Sean is still here.  
  
\- Now wait.  
  
So he waits, seeing his enemy hunching down and charging, ready to crush him on a wall again, his steps long and loud like a thunder in his ears, thud-thud-thud. Zach braces himself, panting. Not until he feels the movement of air on his face he jumps aside. Thomp! Zach lands shakily, but keeps his balance and uses that momentum to strike. The shield generator on the agent's back, an easy target. It breaks in the rain of sparkles and smoke, overcharged systems running the current back through the wires and flesh; the man falls down and shakes, and then stops moving at all.  
  
\- Ungainly. - Sean furrows his brow.  
  
\- It did the job - Zach protests, panting.  
  
\- Sufficient is not enough, Zachariah. You can do better than that.  
  
He's standing far away from Zach, a dark shape in the corner of the hall, but his is the face Zach would recognize everywhere. Silver implants on Sean's forehead reflect the light and for a second there's hope that he is really standing there, in the flesh. But Zach has learned already to not rely on hope.  
  
\- You can't be here, Master. You're dead.  
  
\- There's no shame in dying, Zachariah. We all do that, at least once.  
  
He seems… offended?  
  
\- I'm not saying it is, Master, it's just…  
  
\- You're confused. It will pass.  
  
He steps out of the shadows and Zach sees that he's not wearing his usual uniform. It's the ceremonial clothing, not the armour; the black coat, lacking the protective pieces, makes him look leaner. It's the attire he should be buried in.  
  
But who knows if they had even buried him at all.  
  
Yet Zach can't afford to think about it right now. He finally rubs his eye and there's blood on his hand; _I must have hurt my head pretty badly_. And the fight is far from over.  
  
\- Watch out.  
  
With a dance-like move Sean steps aside and lets another ASC operative pass him by, another challenge for his student to master. Before the man reaches him, Zachs glances at the far end of the hall, bright from the cold blue light of Andrew's magnetic shield. They're holding their own, Phobos and Andrew, but just barely.  
  
\- A mutant. How peculiar. - It seems, Sean followed his gaze. - One more time you'll lose the sight of your opponent and I shall make sure you'll regret it.  
  
\- I'm sorry, Master.  
  
He ducks under the wrench and kicks the man in the back of the knee, strong enough to make him fall. Zach uses his staff like a garotte, all his strength barely enough to hold the man in place. At first, the agent tries to reach for his eyes. Then he just flails.  
  
\- You're making an excellent target out of yourself here.  
  
He's right, obviously.  
  
\- I know… Master… These ASC fuckers… always pain in the ass.  
  
And there it is, the sudden dread of realization that he used an inappropriate language in front of his Master. Somehow the horror is almost bigger than anything Viktor could throw at him.  
  
\- My apologies, Master. - Zach loses his grip and his opponent falls limply on the ground. - I forgot myself.  
  
\- I've heard the word "fuck" before, Zachariah. - Suddenly Sean is right here, laughing, and Zach almost jumps. - To think Viktor Watcher would dust off the first colonists' armoury just to catch my former apprentice. That's quite a feat.  
  
\- There's no end to them. - Zach breathes heavily.  
  
It was a madness, this whole mission, right from the start. Barely any reconnaissance, intel more than vague, but whatever, we're gonna snatch your son right from the middle of fuckin Ophir, Mister Judge, no problem. And the bloody kid didn't even want to get snatched, so they had to sedate and carry him, lay him on Phobos' shoulders like some weird trophy, rendering both the giant Mutant and Andrew far less useful in the combat than usual. Andrew might be the most powerful technomancer on the planet, capable of creating shield big enough to protect him and the kid, but he's not a miracle worker. And the Watchers just keeps on coming.  
  
A dozen of them lays on the floor now, and the fight is far from over. Getting out is always harder than getting in.  
  
It'd be easier if Zach could just snap their necks, stab them between the plates of their armour. But he can't.  
  
\- A mere dog knows how to kill. - It's not surprising Sean seems to read his mind now; he did the same in his life. - So let's not waste your time on doing the work they could've sent the dogs for.  
  
\- I know, Master.  
  
\- I see that, Zachariah. I'm proud of you.  
  
And with that the next enemy doesn't look challenging at all, so Zach just starts running towards him, his teeth bared in a grin. Perhaps the man sees something in his face, because he freezes, right hand behind his back. Then suddenly he throws - dark shape in the air - a perfect arch -  
  
_Grenade_ , screams Zach's mind, but his reflexes took control a milliseconds ago. Magnetic shield protects him from the blast, but not from the noise, so even if Sean has some comment ready for this occasion, Zach wouldn't hear it. Or would he? How does the ghost's voice even work?  
  
With this thought he jumps out of the cloud of dust and smoke, right on the agent crouched behind a small wall, his hands over his ears.  
  
\- Surprise, bitch - says Zach.  
  
The operative shoots at him, point-blank range, but the shield holds and the bullets ricochet off until Zach kicks the gun out of his hands. And there's yet another man coming, covered behind a shield; not much time to deal with this one. The agent's face is a mask of panic, and it feels good, to be the feared one, so Zach redirects his next hit mid-air; not in the side of his head, but in the jaw. Teeth are flying, a white-red dots in the air.  
  
\- Good. - Sean's voice right next to him. - They're weaker than us, so we owe them mercy. But nothing more.  
  
\- Nothing more.  
  
With a quiet snap, the magnetic shield finally dissipates. The next agent sees that for sure, but keeps his distance, cautious; a nasty looking electrical baton in his hand casts a cold light on the floor.  
  
\- Now that's just insulting. - Sean appears by his side, fingers laced together behind his back. The ASC man didn't seem to notice.  
  
\- Their newest toy, Master.  
  
\- This is how they see us… men with the glowing sticks. - The contempt in his voice could bend steel.  
  
\- The fuck you talking to? -The operative glances aside and snarls. - Fucking freak.  
  
\- When was the last time you ever shaved, soldier? - Sean apparently ended his inspection and is not pleased. - Unbelievable. Zachariah, teach him a lesson.  
  
\- Of course, Master.  
  
Clad in the first settlers' armour, the man looks like a giant beetle, a chunk of grey concrete emerged from the depths of Ophir, bulky and clumsy. His shield has toothed edges; his baton is to be avoided. Both men are circling around, waiting for the perfect moment.  
  
And Sean is right, it is insulting. Does Viktor think this is all it takes to intimidate him, to make him feel ordinary and weak; helpless? A bunch of ugly plates and lightning rods? He thinks that's all there is to the technomancy?  
  
_I have to restrain myself to not kill you._  
  
The staff will be of no use now; he retracts it and attaches to his belt. And to stand before the ASC operative with the bare hands - it feels good.  
  
At the corner of his eye Zach sees, that Sean nods.  
  
The enemy wastes no time to wonder, he moves forward, steady on his feet, dark eyes glaring just above the edge of his shield. It's ancient as well, the shield, a part of the treasured armoury of Ophir, more relic than the weapon of war. And after the long hours of watching Amelia working on the relic of her own Zach knows how fragile they are.  
  
The baton draws a glowing arch in the air, but meets nothing; it's easy to spot and easy to avoid. Electricity chirps loudly, playfully. The operative comes even closer.  
  
Zach draws his pistol. A simple nailgun, heavy, good only for a really short distance. Like now. He leaps down and slides - the shield's coming down on his head - he bends and shoots. Crack! - he turns and shoots again - crack! The shield barely misses his face.  
  
The nails easily pierce the boot and flesh underneath, crushes the bones of the foot. The agent makes no noise more than gasp and strikes with his shield once more. Zach kicks him in the other leg. Then shoots in the hand holding the baton.  
  
And then, as he's really angry, he nails his hand to the floor.  
  
\- Send your boss my regards.  
  
It hurts to breathe.  
  
It's more an instinct than anything else that he notices in time the man above, a dark silhouette on the gallery at the opposite side of the hall. And more than a man. The machine. He ducks immediately, covers behind the same small wall that before; the ASC agent is lying nearby on the floor, blood pouring from his mouth.  
  
The machine gun jars.  
  
Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta.  
  
But he's not the target.  
  
He hears Andrew swearing - _no shield will hold that_ \- and jumps from behind his cover to the other one, seeing - Phobos turning some cabinet over, a makeshift shelter - Andrew on his knees, left arm extended - and lands, just in time. The shooter sees him. The bullets fly closer.  
  
_Fuck!_  
  
Andrew screams in pain and with a thunderous noise his shield vanishes.  
  
_How long will that cabinet last?_  
  
\- We have to retreat! - Phobos yells through the gunfire. - Outside of his range!  
  
\- Get the fuck outta here! - Zach yells back.  
  
_I love you Phobos please get him out of there_  
  
\- You're on your own, Zach!  
  
\- No! - It's Andrew. _He's conscious, he's alive._ \- We can't…  
  
\- Move!!!  
  
The machine gun is too heavy to be moved by one person. With the others outside of his range, there's only one target for him here.  
  
Zach hunches up behind the wall.  
  
Ra-ta-ta-ta.  
  
\- A few weeks I'm dead, and here I find you, fighting someone else's battles for them. Predictable is our life.  
  
Sean just stands nearby, disregarding the bullets whirring in the air. Why shouldn't he? They cannot kill him the second time.  
  
\- I had to, Master.  
  
\- Of course you had. I'm sure the Judge lost many nights of sleep before he asked the most wanted man in Abundance to search for his kid.  
  
\- Probably not even one. - Zach shrugs. _What does it matter?_ \- If I can help…  
  
\- Then help you must, my dear boy. Then you must help, then you must hurt, then you must bleed until there's nothing left of you for them to use. Then they'll throw you away. Like Dandolo did.  
  
Time flows slower, it seems, the bullets are perfectly visible as they're hitting the wall in front of him; ra-ta-ta-ta; pieces of broken concrete flies in all directions. Little puffs of dust in the air. The shooter doesn't stop, keeps him pinned in the spot. Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta.  
  
\- He has his reasons - He replies because Dandolo's betrayal still stings, but the implications of Sean's words sting harder. - He has the whole city to look after.  
  
\- They all have things that matter to them. Funny how you're never one of those things.  
  
Zach reaches for the ASC gun lying nearby, then tries to shield himself again; reaches within and finds that he's empty. No power left to cover him from the fire.  
  
Desperation crawls its way up.  
  
\- I'm sure humans are nice and convincing, and their plight sympathetic. But they are many, and only a few of us left. Why should they matter more?  
  
\- It's his child, Master, he asked me to help his child…  
  
\- Yet no one cares about mine.  
  
The gunner's not stopping even for a moment, like a wind-up toy set in motion, ra-ta-ta-ta, keeping him from standing up, from fighting back, making him helpless. _Useless, useless, useless._ The machine gun rattles.  
  
\- I care! - He shouts, more to outshout Sean than the sound of the gunfire. - I fuckin' care! 'Bout everything. Somebody has to.  
  
About Abundance devouring herself. About Andrew's malfunctioning arm. About stupid ill ostriches in Mutant Valley. Everything.  
  
Sean kneels down near him and sighs deeply, and his breath doesn't stir up the air.  
  
\- Zachariah - he says - my poor child. My beautiful, broken boy. - His voice is gentle, sorrow in his eyes. - You're going to burn.  
  
Zach clenches his jaw. What's left for him than the defiance?  
  
\- But you're right - Sean continues - you're right and I am wrong. Someone has to care. Thank you for reminding me.  
  
The urge to take his hand is almost too strong for Zach to resist, but he knows that there'd be nothing beneath his fingers. Would he disappear under his touch like a swirl of mist? Zach couldn't bear that. Not again.  
  
\- I've done… questionable things, Zachariah. - He says. - Giving up is its own peculiar kind of joy... though I pray that you'll never taste it. When that man came, there was no fight left in me.  
  
\- I know. I wish I could be there for you, Master. Sean.  
  
\- I brought it upon myself, Zachariah. But for you… there are far, far greater things ahead. Now, shall we get you out of here?  
  
He snaps his fingers, but the noise it makes is too loud.  
  
It takes Zach almost a second to understand.  
  
The machine gun jammed.  
  
Zach jumps out of the cover like a spring, aiming while still mid-air. His hand is steady; his aim - perfect. His enemy's leg explodes in the cloud of bloody mist, a knee opens like a red and white flower. A scream.  
  
He shoots a few more times, to be sure. Then he falls down, exhausted, breathing heavily. His hands are shaking.  
  
Silence is deafening.  
  
\- Zach!  
  
\- I'm fine, Andrew.  
  
Thomp-thomp-thomp. It's Phobos. Andrew's steps are barely audible.  
  
\- Stay with me, Sean. Please.  
  
There's no answer.  
  
\- Zach! - Andrew almost jumps on him, his left arm limp, but with the right one he holds him close. - What was that. Are you okay?  
  
\- Just some broken ribs. - He hugs him back. - I'll be fine. Your arm broke again? I was afraid that...  
  
\- I'm okay.  
  
\- We really need to go. - Phobos carries the boy in his arms. - Can you walk?  
  
\- Yes.  
  
They left in a hurry, stepping over the bodies torn to pieces by the bullets.  
  
_Why do I even bother?_  
  
The air is heavy with dust. Before stepping through the doors Zach looks back one more time. There's no one to be seen.  
  
His throat clenches. He's looking forward from now on.  
  
\- Now only through the Underworks. - Andrew is leading the way. - The girls should have our route secured already.  
  
\- We should get Scott to see you, Zachariah. You look awful. - Phobos is not looking much better than Zach, but it never stops him from worrying.  
  
\- I'll be fine, big guy. Just want to go home.  
  
\- Mutant Valley. Ostentatious... But there's dignity in calling things by their name.  
  
Zach almost trips. He waves a hand at Andrew; _I'm fine_.  
  
\- See, Master? - Zach smiles. - They care about me. I'm not alone anymore.  
  
\- I see that. I'm so happy for you.  
  
\- Zach, who are you talking to?  
  
There's a mischievous smirk on Sean's lips.  
  
\- Now, Zachariah… would you be so kind as to introduce me to your friends?

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a distant result of the legendary Discord shenanigans... and the image of Sean floating in the air, roasting your opponents as you proceed to kick the shit out of them. :D Then it turned darker, cause of course it did.  
> I just like the idea that Zach not killing his enemies doesn't mean that he'll put up with fighting the same men over and over. 
> 
> Lyrics at the beginning - "Bullets" by Archive


End file.
